


golden feathers. what would you burn for?

by rangerdanger985



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Ficlet, I HAVE A NEW OBSESSION, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mild Blood, Tags Are Hard, crowley walks into a church so, i should totally be doing homework, im not good at fight scenes, may add tags as i think of them, might continue, mild violence, take that for what it is, why are chrome books so hard to type on!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerdanger985/pseuds/rangerdanger985
Summary: Aziraphale laid on the altar at the back of the church like some sacrifice from ancient times to gods that didn’t exist, and even if they did they wouldn’t care for young women honestly how humanity got that idea he’d never know aside from it wasn’t his lot that did it.The thought of sacrifice was supported by the gold that stained the area around his still figure, spreading in streams and shallow pool. It would have been quite pretty, something an ancient artist would paint and sell to coveted collectors but he get its gruesome origin.Angels bled gold.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 182





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have sauntered vaguely downward like Crowley and can't get up.
> 
> just as a warning I don't know if I want to continue this or just leave it as is but am considering adding another chapter.
> 
> TW for blood even if it isn't human blood and injury and slowly burning because I watched a commercial about a dandelion running from a dead lawn but dying before it made it.
> 
> spoiler alert they dot die but Crowley gets close, he is a demon after all and it is a church.
> 
> Hope you enjoy my rambling!  
RD

Aziraphale laid on the altar at the back of the church like some sacrifice from ancient times to gods that didn’t exist, and even if they did they wouldn’t care for young women honestly how humanity got that idea he’d never know aside from it wasn’t his lot that did it.

The thought of sacrifice was supported by the gold that stained the area around his still figure, spreading in streams and shallow pools.

It would have been quite pretty, something an ancient artist would paint and sell to coveted collectors but he gets its gruesome origin.

Angels bled gold, its what set them apart from humanity, something neither a curse nor blessing could hide and now the angel spread the evidence of his holiness across the consecrated ground between them, not that the pure white wings spread out below him didn’t at least hint at that but the gold was the cincher.

“angel” he gasped and took an involuntary step forward, although it wasn’t so involuntary he’d known the angel for 6000 years nothing he did around Aziraphale was involuntary, but he stumbled back as his foot burned as if caught on fire pale smoke drifting from where his shoe touched the polished floor.

It burned worse than Germany ever had, than any church ever had and it filled his chest, his heart, with dread. Thoughts racing through his mind as the distance between himself and his injured angel laid.

He turned satanic eyes skyward with a scowl “is this a test?!” he demanded of the silent sky, something that had been silent for so long now he didn’t remember what it sounded like, what she sounded like a voice that filled him with warmth to bursting. Now when he thought of that feeling he didn’t think of her, he thought of Aziraphale, of the soft chastising and the teasing and the angel's insistence that they were sworn enemies even as he invited said enemy to lunch.

“am I supposed to turn away? Am I supposed to leave him like this? Is this a message that I cant reach him?!” only the stars answered him, shining with ancient sad light that he knew so well, a light that he had once held in his palms, feeding and sheltering until it grew and blazed with life of its own.

He missed that warmth “god-ugk- satan- someone damn it!” he said before looking back to the angel, decision made though he didn't remember making one and he moved forward.

The pain was immediate, like burning only he knew what burning felt like, and falling and this was so much worse. He didn’t let his feet linger, didn’t think about the pain or how as he went further it wasn’t just the surface that hurt but the air itself, charged with angelic energy. He knew it was a trap, knew it like he knew his own name both before and after but he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop, not until Aziraphale was alright and as he moved, long strides eating up a distance that just seemed to go further and further, he raged. He didn’t know against who but he raged with all his demonic might, with all his power, all his years on this earth and all he had seen and done and heard and felt.

He raged with all that he was even as the very air burned his lungs “this is not how this goes” he said striding ever forward never even thinking of turning away from Aziraphale “this is not what happens, he does not die here, this is not how this goes!” he snarled even as his knees grew weak his legs like jelly as the angelic blessed air stole his demonic strength.

“he won't die” he gasped as suddenly his knees buckled, the floor burning through his pants and smoke raising from the points of contact “he can't die” he muttered, mind gone numb with pain as he pushed himself up, stumbling another few steps before collapsing on the burning cold floor “the end is over” he gasped as his hands made contact for a few minutes before also giving out leaving him lying face down.

It should hurt so much more than it did but that was the thing about pain, after a while, it just becomes a tingling numbness, he had been in enough pain over the centuries to know this. His fuzzy eyes saw candlelight reflects off golden blood and curled his lips, determination burning in his demonic blood as he pushed himself to his knees, realized just how close he was “we were supposed to be safe, it was over” he muttered while reaching out, pulling himself up with a pew that burned worse than hellfire.

“I won't let this be his end” he muttered and stumbled forward before falling to his knees a final time, truly unable to stand only inches out of reach, golden blood soaking into his dar clothing and further burning his demonic skin, golden angel blood so unlike black demonic blood was the only thing as strong as holy water, the only thing as painful. A pale feather soaked in gold laid close to him and he reached out with trembling fingers, grabbing the object that may as well have been a cross for the way it burned and drew it close “don’t let this be his end”

He didn’t know if he was speaking to himself, to god or just gasping in the last few moments before death because discorperation wasn’t exactly a thing for him anymore. As he drew the feather closer and his body bowed forward with weakness his wings spread into this plane of existence, dark feathers gleaming for just a moment before they began to smolder, primaries and flight feathers glowing red at the edges.

They stretched the distance he couldn’t reach, shielding Aziraphale and feeling him, feeling for his unnecessary breathing or useless heartbeat, felt the faintest stir against his feathers before it stopped and he leaned back wings stretching wide and burning as he threw his head back and screamed with agony, putting everything he was, is or would ever be into a fina act, shoving every bit of strength he had forward to touch the angel, the pale beautiful being that haad made his life worth living for 6000 years. 

It was a miracle, the strongest he had ever cast in his existence both before and after, stronger than when he stopped time, stronger than when he saved the book, stronger than when he saved the angels life, stronger even than the stars that still hung in the sky, an everlasting part of his soul, a part of him that would shine for eternity. 

And still yet this miracle was stronger than all of them combined and focused solely on the angel, on the soft words whispering through his head ‘please don’t die, I don’t know what I’d do if you died, come back Aziraphale, come back’ before his eyes rolled and he collapsed for the final time, wing stretched to touch the angels and with a stained white feather clutched to his chest.

Darkness was all he knew.

But in that darkness a light, long thought abandoned, woke inside of him, the smoke stopped rising from his form and even though his skin was still blistered and burned they grew no worse.

High above in her library, though she had no clue what was going on, the almighty smiled down at her oldest creation and the warmth that again filled his cold frame.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wakes up and sees a ghost of heavens past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am saying it will only be 3 chapters, it had better only be 3 chapters (its gonna be more than 3 chapters *cries*)
> 
> enjoy!

Darkness receded like waves lapping at a shore, taking its time to slip away then surging forward again before finally leaving him with the distant scent of old books and, coco strangely enough. It took his sluggish brain a moment to recognize the smell of the bookshop that he had spent so much of his time in and then it took a moment more for his brain to supply fuzzy memories, or lack thereof, of how exactly he got to said bookshop.

Last he knew he had been collapsed, burning from the inside out, on the floor of a church. When he remembered exactly why he had been in the church to begin with his heart started hammering against his ribs, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.

Before he could open his eyes and jump to his feet in search of Aziraphale he heard a simple tune being hummed from nearby, a tune he hadn’t heard for a millennia, not since the middle of his sleep in the mid-fourteenth century, a song that had been lost to the sands of time since well before the library of Alexandria or Jesus or even Noah. 

Only one person remained that knew the song and it made him jerk, trying to push himself up and opening his eyes to stare in the direction it was coming from but the sudden flood of white-hot pain in his eyes and his body made him shut them, giving up on attempting to get up and hissing as if the pain was something he could scare away.

The sound of something dropping to the floor and someone rushing over nearly made him open them again “Crowley my dear don’t move so, you’re going to aggravate your burns” the tone was a mix of worry and disapproval only the angel could ever seem to perfect and it made Crowley chuckle despite the burn in his throat “to late” he muttered before feeling a warm hand on his chest under what he was sure wasn’t one of his nightshirts.

That was one of the reasons he liked Aziraphale, the angel was always warm, always soft. Always what he missed from before his fall “what happened” he managed, still keeping his eyes squeezed closed, face scrunched up with discomfort which itself was also uncomfortable “I’m not quite sure. I remember I was about to sit down for a spot of lunch then, nothing” if Crowley opened his eyes, he would have seen the angel throw his hand up in the most exaggerated gesture of annoyance he could imagine.

“Next thing I know I wake up on the dais in a church and you collapsed on the ground, you were a right mess, burned and bleeding” Crowley heard the tremble in the angels voice he tried to hide and reached up, laying a hand over the one on his chest “I’m alright angel”

Silence fell for a moment then he felt the angel shift, he’d guess to look at him more fully “what do you remember my dear” Crowley didn’t know why he asked so quietly “I was on my way here when I got a bad feeling, followed it to the church. Found you laid out and bleeding. It had to be a trap I knew it was, but you were dying angel, I couldn’t do nothing, so I went to you but the air itself was charged with grace.”

He shuttered at the memory “just breathing burned but I had to make sure you were alright” he was rambling, he knew he was but the fear was coming back to him, the terror that followed him when he passed out rearing its head “it was too much and I collapsed but I had to try and heal you. I didn’t know if a demonic miracle would work but I had to try. I didn’t think it would work” he stopped when the coco smell got more powerful before Aziraphale pressed their foreheads together. Making him open his eyes in shock.

Distantly Crowley rejoiced because they had never been this close before but at the same time he froze because again they had never been this close before. He wanted to enjoy the warmth but the lingering pain in his body wouldn’t let him “hush dear boy, it’s over now”  
“no, it’s not, we don’t know who did this” the angel made a hushing sound that shouldn’t have been nearly as soothing as it was “we’ll find out and we’ll handle it. We helped stop the end of the world, after all, I doubt there’s anything we can’t do” Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes, shifting his face away “don’t say that angel, it's as bad as a curse”

The angel chuckled before leaning away, he slid fingers through Crowley’s hair which made him relax even as he distantly thought that it was oddly long before the angel touched his cheek “look at me dear” Crowley couldn’t help but obey and finally looked at the angel.

Though his coat and bowtie were missing he still wore his vest and his eyes were just as blue as they had always been, from what he could see the angel had no lasting injury, not a drop of golden blood in sight but something was wrong. It took a moment to realize the angel's face had gone slack pupils dilating and mouth open and obviously confused “angel?”

His voice seemed to knock Aziraphale out of whatever had caused him to freeze because suddenly the angel was smiling softly, his hand stroking Crowley’s cheek where it rested. He had never been so soft and it made Crowley nervous “your eyes are beautiful my dear, their so familiar and yet I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them” Crowley blinked in confusion “what are you talking about?” he questioned knowing his eyes had been the same since he’d met the angel who had seen them several times over the years the most recent of which would have been a few weeks ago when they got rip-roaring drunk after they stopped the end of the world.

“your eyes my dear, I didn’t know you could change them” The angel miracle a small mirror into his hand and held it out so Crowley could see himself. At first, he couldn’t see anything aside from the long strands of wavy red hair or the skin on his face that looked irritated from touching the churches floor but after a moment he saw it and snatched the mirror from the angel, pulling it closer even as his arms ached from the sudden fast movement.

His eyes were different, no longer the sickly glowing yellow of a demonic serpent now they looked like a rosette nebula, golden and speckled with reds and greens and flecks silvers that looked like stars, he knew the eyes as well as he knew himself even if he hadn’t seen them in over 6000 years, they were his eyes the same way they weren’t, sparkling and shining with starlight. They were his eyes from before.

Before he fell.

Before he lost the stars.

Before he was a demon.

Before he was crawly

He didn’t realize his hands had started to shake until Aziraphale placed his own over top of them “what’s wrong my dear, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost” Crowley laughed because he didn’t think the angel knew just how close he was to the truth.

Crowley had seen a ghost alright, a ghost of heavens past.

“I didn’t change my eyes angel, I tried in the past after the fall, I couldn’t, I cant” his hands still shook even as Aziraphale started rubbing his knuckles, careful of the burns on his hands “I lost my eyes in the fall”

The angel obviously didn’t know what to say, hell Crowley didn’t know what to say, confused and in pain and scared, he didn’t know why he had his eyes back now, just when he’d gotten used to seeing the world through dark lenses, just when he’d gotten used to his cursed serpent eyes.

What was happening? A sudden shock of pain in his back made him hiss, face twisting in aggravation “what’s wrong dear?” Aziraphale looked worried again, Crowley couldn’t blame him “my back” he muttered and the angels face softened slightly even if it didn’t lose its worried lines “ah yes, I haven’t checked your wings over for burns, wanted you to be awake for that” the sudden embarrassed flush on the angels face was amusing to Crowley.

The angel had seen him naked, but the wings were a step too far? Apparently the angel knew what he was thinking, not hard given they’ve known each other for 6000 years, and looked like he wanted to smack him but instead just sighed and gave him a look that basically said ‘behave or else’ the look Crowley gave him in return said, quite simply, to ‘make me’

“child” the angel sighed with a fond smile before moving his hands to Crowley’s shoulders “sit up dear boy and I’ll tend to the rest of the burns” he really didn’t want to sit up, moving to much made his burns hurt worse but the steadily increasing itching pain from his wings now that he was awake overrode the rest of his discomfort.

That didn’t stop him from cursing as he sat up, hair falling forward and gasping to make his head stop spinning. Aziraphale didn’t let go of him until he nodded and even then, his hands didn’t go far in case Crowley needed the support.

He didn’t think about that, instead closing his eyes and focusing on bringing his wings into existence, keeping them away for so long was always like keeping a hand clenched for days on end and letting them out was like relaxing for the first time in years.

Crowley sighed as he felt them unfold from his back but it was a short-lived pleasure because they burned, like someone took a hot poker and left it embedded in the feathers.

A cool hand on his coverts was soothing, something pure and angelic soaking into his wings and cooling the burns and the hurts.

A gust of air left his lungs and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward to the angel's shoulder pain and stress and fear making his eyes heavy, his injuries didn’t help and he didn’t fight it, allowing sleep to wash over him once more.

~0~

This time when Crowley woke it wasn’t as bright, he was laying on his side and something was touching his wing but it was cool, soothing for the lingering burns in his body “how long was I asleep?” he muttered knowing it was Aziraphale behind him, no one else would be brave enough to touch him.

“just a few hours” Crowley grunted and slowly glanced over his shoulder, the angel sitting behind him with Crowley’s wing stretched out over his lap, running a rag over his dark feathers. He groaned as he laid his head back down “so what’s the damage” he muttered and the angel stopped his movements.

He started against when Crowley’s wing twitched “not as bad as I was expecting there are some burns but the real damage is from the mess these are in” the angel's tone shifted and Crowley groaned in annoyance “honestly dear boy when was the last time you attended to your wings”

“I’ve been busy” he muttered burying his head in the pillows, blowing a strand of hair from his face “your never too busy to run a hand through your feathers, honestly wings like this shouldn’t be in such a state” 

Crowley grunted “like what, burned?” he muttered and felt a soft touch on the back of his head that he suspected would have been a sharp smack if he wasn’t injured “they aren’t burned, they're just dark. I think they're rather suiting for you my dear, inky black until you're close enough to see the spots”

“spots” Crowley turned his head, possibly pulling a muscle with how fast he moved “yes, like stars” before the angel had time to continue and before Crowley had time to press him about his words they both stopped, Crowley sniffing before curling his lip because there was a smell in the bookshop that shouldn’t be there, something rotten, something dead.  
Something nearby.

“angel” he muttered and Aziraphale nodded, he could sense it, something unwelcome in the space. Crowley made a move to get up but sharp pain radiated from his side, making him stop nearly as fast as the hand on his shoulder.

He looked at the angel who smiled at him “I’ll handle it” he said quietly before raising to his feet and quickly disappearing. Crowley hissed and laid his head down, forehead pressed to the soft pillows and pulled his wings closer, pushing out all of his senses to try and locate the danger, or at least figure out what the danger was.

So busy looking at other places he didn’t notice how close danger was until something growled behind him. Turning his head he came face to face with the rotten smell, a creature standing behind him from nightmares. He could hear shouting from the front room, the angel apparently finding his own trouble.

“oh, fuck,” he said before the creature lunged and he screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! last chapter! (maybe)
> 
> enjoy y'all!  
RD

Aziraphale moved forward quickly, searching for the intruder or intruders so they could be quickly dealt with so he could return to his demons’ side. He had never seen the demon so weak before, even in the 14th century the demon had been back on his feet within hours of waking up, in Germany he had barely been affected by the church and his feet had healed by the next day, Aziraphale knew because he’d been the one to check on the demon.

It worried him that the demon was so weak the same way it worried him that the smell of sulfur was growing stronger permeating the entire front room of his shop and he couldn’t tell where it was originating from.

It was making him uneasy that he couldn’t pinpoint the danger although it seemed that the danger had no problem pinpointing him, but the thing that hit him didn’t match what was attacking him, it felt demonic but it was an angel wing that hit him in the chest.

Aziraphale was caught off guard by the strike and was thrown into one of his bookshelves, “what in the world” he demanded and looked at the angel who stood with wings mantled in the main lobby of his shop.

“what are you doing?” he demanded but the angel, a woman he didn’t recognize, didn’t answer. And now they he watched two others came up and stood behind her “this is the angel that has everyone terrified?” one of the other angels asked, giving Aziraphale a once over that made him frown.

“Apparently, there’s no way he survived hellfire” the third angel said and the woman waved a hand “survived hellfire or not, imagine the commendation we’ll get for bringing his head to Gabriel”

Aziraphale frowned at the angels who spoke as if he wasn’t even there “what about the demon?” the second angel asked, looking around warily but the other two waved his concerns off “you worry too much Sam, that demon is as good as dead if not from what we did at the church then when hell gets hold of him”

“I’m sorry what?” Aziraphale interrupted them, making them look back at him “and also, how dare you trespass here but first what do you mean when hell gets a hold of him?” the center angel smiled but it wasn’t a nice smile, it was a predatory smile of someone picking on someone smaller than themselves “oh lord Beelzebub let us borrow one of their hellhounds so long as we brought back the traitor Crowley’s head”

The third angel and tallest of the group made a motion around the shop “I’m surprised you couldn’t sense it, after all, we let it lose the second we made it to earth” Aziraphale narrowed his eyes “you let a hellhound loose in SoHo? Do you know how many innocent lives you put in danger?!” the angel who had been referred to as Sam scoffed “we don’t care about the humans, they’re all going to die eventually anyway so what if its sooner than expected”

The first angel spoke again “besides it led us straight to you” a scream from the backroom made Aziraphale whip his head around “and it seems the hound has found its target” the angel said.

“Crowley” Aziraphale said and moved as if to rush toward the backroom only for the angels to block his path “the demon is beyond your help, we are who you should be worried about” the female said, a flaming sword seeming to materialize from nowhere.  
The way they blocked his bath to his demon angered Aziraphale and something in his mind clicked, his hand which had been empty now grasping the hilt of a sword “how dare you” he hissed as he wielded it, not even thinking as to where it had appeared from.

“I am principality Aziraphale, guardian of the eastern gate and this is your only warning to step aside” the female grinned, a manic glint in her eyes “principality or no” she said, brandishing her own sword “it's three against one and you’re at a distinct disadvantage so do us all a favor, and die quickly!”

She lunged an Aziraphale was shoved back further away from the door. As he was forced further away from Crowley, he prayed with all he had and a strength he had been lacking since the mid 14th century, he prayed that Crowley would be alright, no matter what happened to himself, Crowley was all he cared about.

~0~

Hell had never sent a hellhound on him before, Crowley thought as he lunged away from the great dark beast, barely avoiding poisonous fangs and hellfire claws. It was a huge black Great Dane but twice the size of the dog it took its appearance from, and it was hungry.

Crowley was in no condition to fight it off on his own and judging from the sounds coming from the front room he doubted he’d be getting any help from Aziraphale who apparently had his hands full with his own fight.

He couldn’t exactly run either, the beast was faster and stronger than him in every way and if he tried, he’d just die quicker. “I don’t suppose there’s some way we could talk this out?” he questioned holding up one hand, palm toured the beast which was snarling low in its throat.

At his words, the beast’s snarls grew louder and he had his answer “guess not, no talking my way out of this one eh? Oh, next time I see Beelzebub I am giving them a piece of my mind” the beast snarled again crouching down.

Crowley commanded himself to think, think of some way to survive the hound and possibly beat it, some way to go help Aziraphale even if Crowley wasn’t a fighter, however, he didn’t have time to think as suddenly the beast was lunging and something burned in Crowley’s chest.

He reached out, he didn’t know for what and grabbed something cool and metal, closing his eyes and turning his face away as he swung it and then.

Silence.

Something heavy thudded to the ground and when Crowley turned his head to look, he found the hellhounds head laid on his left side and its body was on the right, smoldering from whatever cut it and leaking dark blood onto the floor.

Crowley scrambled away from it, staring in shock for a moment before looking at what he held in his hand and found a sword, the blade glittering golden with flames not quite strong enough to burst forward out of the metal.

Without thinking he dropped it with a gasp, the warmth receding in his chest and the blade dissolving into glowing specs before disappearing altogether. He sat up and buried his fingers into his hair, staring at the floor with wide eyes as he started to pant for unnecessary air.

“what the fuck is happening to me” he demanded of nothing, well on his way to a panic attack when he was pulled out of his thoughts by a crash in the front room of the shop “fuck, Aziraphale!” he said and leaped from the round to his feet, wincing as his injuries reminded him that they weren’t fully healed before rushing to the front of the shop, turning the corner just in time to see Aziraphale pinned to a shelf by two angels he didn’t recognize with a third angel holding a flaming sword aloft ready to strike.

He didn’t know what they were saying, it was something about demons and tricks, but he didn’t care just rushing forward to grab the arm holding the blade before it could be brought down on his angel. “what the fuck” the angel in front of him yelped jumping away from him in surprise.

Crowley wasn’t a fighter, never had been but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to fight, so many years in hell taught one to defend themselves when the need arose and it sure as fuck rose now.

Startled by his sudden appearance the other two angels holding Aziraphale loosened their grip, letting him wrench himself free and punch one in the nose before they retreated “how is the demon still standing” one of them demanded as Aziraphale stepped over to steady Crowley who refused to take his eyes off the angels “that church was sacred ground, blessed so any demon to step foot in its doors would burst into flame and what it didn’t take care of that hellhound should have!”

Curling his lips Crowley snarled “I’m no normal demon” the angel with the bleeding nose looked unsure, golden blood staining their shirt as they inched closer to their companions “Ariel, I don’t like this. He doesn’t feel like a demon” so they had the brains of the little gang, the female made a slicing motion bearing her sword “it doesn’t matter what he is Sam, they are traitors that went against the divine plan, just imagine how we will be rewarded when we lay their heads at the lords feet”

“Ariel” they spoke again but she just snarled and lunged again, sword raised and ready to strike, arms full of Crowley Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to defend them but there was no need as that heat rose in Crowley’s chest again, hotter than before and he to longed forward.

There was a flash of light and a scream and when Aziraphale could see again he found the female angel on the ground staring in shock and her companions were cowering behind her, trying to make themselves smaller.

He didn’t know why until he looked at Crowley and what he saw stole his breath. The demons hair had grown longer and moved on a wind he couldn’t perceive and it glittered as if precious stones had been laid into the strands, his wings had appeared and they were massive and filled the space with shimmering light and in his hand, glowing and pointing at the trembling angels was a golden staff that hadn’t been seen since the war. The staff of the healer, of the protector, the two snakes twining up into a pair of spread wings and creating a caduceus.

It was archangel Raphael’s staff and Crowley wielded it like a third arm.

“How dare you come into this place” his voice boomed with a power Aziraphale had never heard before “forgive us” the one with the bleeding nose, Sam, spoke, bowing low to Crowley with both respect and fear “silence” the order was sharp and even Aziraphale throat constricted for a moment even as he was at Crowley’s bac and anything but the one the order was issued to.

“you will return to heaven; you will inform your superiors of exactly what you’ve done and accept your punishments graciously. What’s more, you will inform Gabriel to leave us in peace and that this is the last warning any of you will be getting because you’re really pissing me off!” now he sounded more like Crowley.

The angels nodded once, grabbed their friend and fleeing in the blink of the eye but Aziraphale wasn’t paying attention to them, no he was looking at Crowley, watching as his staff dissolved in glimmering specks of light, watched as he turned his head to look at him and watched as the demons glowing golden eyes started to fade, the shining spots like stars in his skin starting to dull into freckles, wings lowering from their mantled position.

It was only when they started to relax that Aziraphale realized that they hadn’t grown in size as he’d believed but rather, they had multiplied, the demon now bore six wings on his back and the glimmered as if they had been cut from the night sky.

“angel,” the demon said quietly before Aziraphale saw his knees buckle and rushed forward to catch him, holding him in his arms as the demon faded from consciousness from the use of the power he hadn’t used in centuries and also the strain of his injuries.

As Aziraphale looked at one of the more severe burns on the demon's shoulder he found it to be bleeding again, but as he watched the blood that stained the bandage wasn’t red.

No, Crowley was suddenly bleeding angelic gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on adding an epilog once I get more time but the long-short of it is by saving Aziraphale at the risk of his life Crowley redeemed himself, so, yay!
> 
> let me know if you like and just know to smash that Kudo button or leaving a comment makes me a very happy demon!
> 
> see y'all next time!  
RD


End file.
